A Hell of My Making
by Phoenix Dayze
Summary: Cloud just wants it all to end. He wants peace. But peace cannot even be found in death, not for one who has sinned so grieviously. And his own personal Hell is far worse than anyone could have imagined, haunted by too familiar faces...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any of the characters therein and I make no profit from this fic.

Cloud Strife stood at the roof's edge, half-skirt flapping in the powerful wind, hands clenched into fists at his sides as he stared blithely down into the empty air This was where he had last seen Sephiroth, the two of them fighting, grappling for dominance, battling for the fate of the planet. It had been three years since then, three years since the last time Cloud had murdered his General. Three years since the last time Sephiroth had lied to him.

And Sephiroth had lied. _I'll never be a memory._ Cloud could still feel the weight of those words as they rolled over him, could still revel in the threat and the silent promise of them. _I'll never be a memory._

But Sephiroth had lied. It had been three years since that day, and he hadn't come back. No, he had faded into the Lifestream just as surely as he had faded into the dust of Cloud's still broken memory.

Cloud grimaced, forcing back the tears that threatened to fall. He had followed Sephiroth that day, had slammed into the Lifestream even as his body had shattered in the explosion, leaving nothing behind but palm-sized pieces. If that. But…

Aerith and Zack. They hadn't let him die. They'd given him a second chance at life.

_No._ Cloud frowned, his knuckles white and tense as he stood wavering on the brink of the building atop which he'd killed the one person he'd loved and respected above all others. The one person he still, after everything, loved and respected above all others. No, they hadn't given him a second chance at life.

They'd stolen his one chance at death.

He'd learned not to hate them for it. He'd even learned to take some joy in life, to let go of most of his grief and guilt over their deaths and take pleasure in his new experiences. And he'd been grateful to Zack and Aerith for the chance they'd given him, for a time. But then, he'd still been waiting for Sephiroth to return. Waiting, and hoping that maybe this time, this time Jenova's child would have been banished and his General given a second chance at the life that had been ripped from him.

But Sephiroth wasn't coming back.

Cloud was truly, inexorably alone.

Closing his eyes and tipping his head back to allow the sun to wash over his face, Cloud unclenched his fists and flung his arms open wide. And then he let go, sighing softly in anticipated release as the wind buffeted his slender body.

And as he fell, making for himself the chance Zack and Aerith had taken from him, Cloud finally learned what it felt like to truly fly.

The Lifestream stretched out beneath Cloud's feet…at least, he thought it was the Lifestream. The vibrant green that usually glowed and flowed around him like silken invasion was now an inky mottled black, a stinking, rotting cesspool of sin and destruction. It cut into his skin as it washed over him. Cloud stared out at the vast abyss of what should have been freedom, what should have finally been peace. But there was nothing but darkness. Tiny, thorned tears forced their way from his eyes, blood tingeing their efforts. Where was the comforting, embracing light? The soft, gentle pull of familiar hands? His world shifted around him, and Cloud felt himself being poured into a hole of black despair. Sorrow and fear threatened to consume him, and Cloud beat his fists along the cavernous walls of his self-made prison. Anger and bitter hate resounded from the impact of his desperate hands and Cloud skittered away from the walls, cowering. What had he done? This was not what he wanted! He wanted to rest! To finally be back with Sephiroth! To reclaim the life he'd wanted for himself in death. But this wasn't it! This was a place of darkness and untold terror created by his own impatient misery and there was no escape, of that Cloud was certain.

More sharp tears leaked from his eyes as he fell to his knees. It couldn't end like this! He wanted peace! He wanted to rest! How could it really end this way! It wasn't fair. He'd been through enough. Hadn't he? Didn't he deserve to rest?

An eerie blue-grey shadow flickered to life before him, slowly taking shape. It was blessedly, terrifyingly familiar. Cloud felt sick, but he was unable to tear his eyes away. The remains of a man who once had been Zack, his dearest friend, wavered in front of him. Blood still seeped from the numerous wounds that littered the now ashen, time-ravished skin. The empty, death-glazed eyes were just a ghost over the black, gaping sockets, and the skin around Zack's mouth was wraith-thin, stretching over a ghoulish grin. "You just couldn't wait, could ya, Spike?" Zack's voice was harsh and taunting and seemed to float, not quite matching with the movements of the terrible lips. "Why couldn't ya just live? Now you've gone and damned yourself."

Damned. A cold shiver ran over Cloud's body. Damned? He couldn't be. Not after all he'd been through…

"Don't be foolish, Strife." An icy, bell-chimed voice. "I went through my fair share of pain and betrayal. Do you think I wasn't damned after the sins I committed?" Silver, ethereal death that flowed like poison, tainting cracked, crumbling porcelain. Green eyes swallowed by black the reflected like a mirror, casting all of Cloud's sins back on him like a branding iron. "Now we'll see what you're truly made of…" A ghostly, rotting arm of moonlight descended on Cloud's shoulder, a calculating look brimming in the hollow, soulless eyes…

Cloud screamed then, a loud, rough shriek of the truly afraid. The truth was laid bare at last, and Cloud had no choice but to stare it in the face. Zack and Aeris had offered him a chance to escape this fate, a chance to change it, but he had thrown it back in their faces, had scoffed at their gift, and thrown himself back to the merciless depths. Only this time it wasn't their illusion that caught him, it was reality. Before, the injustice of his death had allowed them to weave a fantasy, to catch him up in a magical pretend and send him back to life, but now, in the light of his true desires, and the inescapable hold of his suicide, there could be no magic, no help, no light. There was only the truth of his actions. Cloud found himself wanting in far too many ways.

Slowly, he forced himself to look upon the grisly, ghostly reminders of what had once been so precious. He held open his arms once again, raising his chin in defiant courage. "I have sinned." Cloud admitted. "Take me."

They rushed him together, entering him and filling his pain-wracked soul with all the grief and agony they had suffered on his account. Wave after wave of frustrated despair tore through Cloud's fragile senses, forcing him to wallow and drown in his own selfish bitterness and anger. He gagged on the vile taste of betrayal that overwhelmed him, and he knew.

This was what Zack felt. Zack had sacrificed everything to give him a chance at life after their escape from Shin-Ra mansion, and then he'd gone beyond that, offering up part of his own spirit to reform Cloud's shattered body and revive the beating of his blasted heart. He'd broken himself, given Cloud what he needed to return to life.

And Cloud had thrown that precious gift away, had negated Zack's sacrifice because he'd been too absorbed in loneliness and self-pity to realize just well he'd been loved and cherished. Cloud tried to speak, tried to apologize, to beg for forgiveness, but it was too late. He couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but lie entombed in a shifting morass of cloying black despair and choke on the guilt that rose to mingle with the acrid, liquid flavor of Zack's pain. 

"I loved you, Cloud," he heard through the fog of what seemed like a great distance. Zack's voice sliced into him with the power of steel, and Cloud struggled to open his eyes, to meet his well-deserved fate with clear sight. But they were crusted shut with the dried shards of scarlet tears. He was blind, just as he'd been blind in life. _Zack…_

"He's not here," the voice was soft, familiar. But the hint of gentle laughter it had always carried was muffled, mutated by a cruel sadness. Cloud whimpered, shaking his and clenching his fists, his knuckles white and strained. Zack was there; he could feel him, could sense his anguish, could feel his sorrow and disappointment at Cloud's betrayal. Zack was there.

"No," Aerith whispered, her once soft hands raking over his flesh with demonic precision, laying his skin open. Cloud could feel the sick blackness seeping into his body, mixing and mingling with his blood, flooding his mind and overpowering his senses. All he could feel was the roiling hell, the viscous evil that had been his mind, his desires and dreams. He had done this to them. He had done this to himself. _No! Zack…_

"You killed him, Cloud." Her voice was low, sad, and her dagger-like nails paused over his neck, her fingers flexing and clutching, driving those nails into his throat with all the power of her rage behind them. "I loved him, and you killed him. That shot was meant for you, Cloud."

_Aerith…_

"It was meant for you, but you let him take it. You let him take your death."

Cloud tried to scream, to jerk away from her touch, but he couldn't move. The vile liquid held him prisoner. He didn't know how long he lay there, encapsulated in his own darkness, in the hell his mind had created. Eternity was a fickle concept, and time meant nothing in this place. Her hatred suffused him, and he knew… Even as he tried to pull away from her, he knew he deserved it. All of it.

"Yes, Cloud, all of it." This voice was smooth, tinged with a green light that flooded Cloud's mind with a fury of seething rage and resentment. "You deserve everything we have to give you."

_Yes…_ Cloud nodded absently, still blind to the shifting, broken forms whirling in the black. He hardly noticed when Aerith's fingers released their grip and she faded away in a blur of dim light, replaced by his newest tormentor, his greatest sin. _Sephiroth._

"Don't say my name, Strife." Sephiroth's voice was tinged with sadness, the rage tempered by smooth disappointment. "Never say my name." A long pause. Then, "I loved you once, too. Did you know that?"

A cry leaked out into the black and the despair closed in, a dearer companion than Cloud had ever known. He felt hands on his back. Strong hands, cruel hands. And the words that fell from Sephiroth's lips were perhaps the cruelest torture of all.

"Yes, I loved you. But you killed me, Cloud. You betrayed me. It's your fault I'm trapped here, your fault I couldn't return. You don't deserve me, Strife. You don't deserve anyone."

_Your fault. Your fault._ The words echoed in the broken recesses of Cloud's mind, tormenting him through the timeless ages of his eternity in this hell. His damnation. It was his fault. All of it was his fault.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any of the characters therein and I make no profit from this fic.

Sephiroth railed against the walls of his cage, testing the shadow-made bars for weaknesses. Rage boiled in his blood as he listened to his demon self whisper soul crushing lies into undeserving ears, watched as Cloud took those lies into his heart and nursed them as he would a wound. He stood there, helpless, as the devilish versions of himself and Zack that Cloud's guilt and pain had manifested ravaged what was left of the boy's spirit. Sephiroth burned, his green eyes alight with the fires of his aching ferocity. Cloud had made mistakes in life, that was true. Yes, he had sinned when he sought to end his life. But he didn't deserve _this_. Hell, no one deserved this.

His bottled ire was like a ticking bomb, and small flames licked at his flesh, brought up and powered from within his own center. He was trapped here by Cloud's doubt, caged by his fear, and as long as Cloud hated himself, as long as he believed this was deserved, Sephiroth would be unable to break free of the prison the tainted Lifestream had placed him in. Except that he had to. He knew Cloud. He _knew_ him. And Cloud had always thought badly of himself. There was no way that he could withstand such a horrific onslaught alone. He'd always needed support, friendship to carry him through. But Sephiroth was locked away beyond all reaching, and Zack was…

Zack. Where was Zack? Was he near? Maybe if he could connect with the man, if they could work together, absolve their united strength into a single front… Closing his eyes, Sephiroth put all his energy into a new effort. He wrapped his need and desperation, his hope and rage into one pressing thought spear and sent it spiraling into the blackened void. _Zack…_

_Zack…_

Zack hesitated, the ice of his frigid rage sliding to fit solidly against the crushed, cowering form of Cloud's broken spirit. He looked around, blinking, trying to see through the swirling, liquid black mist, but there was nothing to be seen. Shaking his head, he snarled and turned back to the boy. His voice was an empty whisper. "Cloud. I trusted you. How could you do this to me?"

_Zack…_

Zack licked his lips, the words catching in his throat. Cold anger throbbed within him, but it seemed distant. Muted. Cloud was shivering, his skin raw and bleeding from a thousand, thousand wounds, his eyes matted shut, his nostrils quivering with exhaustion and grief. A feeling of sorrow not for himself, but for this boy before him began trickling through Zack's blurred consciousness. But then Cloud whimpered, sending a wave of guilt and self-loathing coursing through the dark mist, and it flowed into Zack's body, infusing him with hatred and bitter rage. Eyes narrowing, he brought his hand back for a sharp strike.

_ZACK!_

Startled and gasping, Zack spun around, his blue eyes scanning the darkness for the speaker who sought his attention. And then he saw him. A golden beacon in the distance, furious flames caged by ruthless bars. Sephiroth. A smile, soft and genuine, crept across Zack's features. He'd been waiting so long to see his General, his friend, whole again. Lowering his hand, Zack fanned his fingers gently over Cloud's ravaged shoulders. "Look," he whispered. "Sephiroth's back."

But Cloud's only answer to his touch was a mental scream of such tormented, anguished self-condemnation that Zack was swept up in it, caught and buffeted by the storm of self-recrimination he could not hope to escape. When it was over, Zack opened his eyes. His smile, when he again saw Sephiroth in the distance, was bitter and feral. "You called for me…General?"

The voice was cold, calloused by rage and hatred, things so foreign to the Zack that Sephiroth had known that it was nearly the voice of a stranger. There had been light, for a moment, recognition, and then Cloud had screamed and the darkness had returned. Sephiroth stared at the vicious, sizzling being that used to be Zack, his eyes not quite adjusting to the sight of malice that he saw. He fought against his mind. This…monstrosity…couldn't be Zack! Zack had to be locked up somewhere, just as he was. He called out again. _Zack!_

"What!" 

The snarled reply was enough to cease Sephiroth's efforts. He wanted Zack, and he had found him. But it wasn't the Zack he'd been looking for. The smiling, carefree man he'd known was now a cruel, decimating demon. Sephiroth took a deep breath, trying to quell the overwhelming feeling of anger-tinged despair that ran through him. Hating Zack…what Zack had become…would do nothing for his cause. He swallowed, letting his eyes travel the man's destroyed body, biting back the pain it caused him. He forced a steely edge into his voice, the one Zack had always responded to. "Zack," he began slowly. "Stop your tormenting for now. I need you."

Zack gave him a look of searching disinterest, as though wavering between his game and the prospect of something new. 

Sephiroth played on Zack's curiosity, on his inability to let things lie. "Come now, Zack, Cloud's not going anywhere. I need you now. Don't you want to know what for?" He waited. Slowly, agonizingly, he waited. Then, like a dark glimmer, Zack appeared at his cage, his once mirthful eyes crawling with hollow, visceral pain.

The vehement reply was practically visible on Zack's drawn lips, his demonic mouth lashed in a permanent sneer. "They should have caged you years ago."

The darkness in Sephiroth's soul threatened to consume him, but he pushed it back. "Zack," he taunted, letting his voice get lower, huskier. "Come in with me. Don't you want to see?"

Zack's expression changed then from bored annoyance, to irked intrigue, and Sephiroth knew that he had him. Zack pressed himself up against the bars, staring into Sephiroth's cage, watching as his General beckoned him with long, flame-kissed fingers. "Show me." He said roughly.

"Come in, Zack." Sephiroth chimed.

Zack stepped through the bars.  
Sephiroth latched onto his immediately, his skin rebelling against the slimy, unholy feel of Zack's ruined flesh, but he paid it no heed. He gathered the devilish man in his arms and pulled him close, sealing his mouth over the stretched, ghoulish lips. Zack gave a strangled protest and tried to push him away, but Sephiroth held firm, moving his mouth, inserting his tongue to taste the total destruction of Zack's soul. Within, Zack was more rotted and bitter than out. The sweet, joyous flavor that had been Zack was replaced by insidious blackness. Sephiroth nearly gagged, but continued. Zack was in here somewhere, and he would find him, one way or another.

Sephiroth's eyes flew open, widening, his hands tightening on Zack's arms as Zack came alive in his grip. Memories raced along the polluted skin, curling around Sephiroth's fingers and trailing up his arms, whispering the dark explanations of Zack's transformation. Zack's mouth became a vacuum, and Sephiroth felt his inner light flickering precariously. All that was good and hopeful in him squirmed and wiggled against the strain, and Zack kept on sucking, pulling, taking what wasn't his. Sephiroth tried to pull away, to break contact, to save himself, but Zack's pull was too strong. Caged by Cloud's fear, and controlled by Zack's hate, Sephiroth was helpless. _Zack,_ he thought, _release me. Don't take me. Please._

Laughter echoed in his mind. There was a harsh, shredding pain, and then, the tiny light, all that was left of Sephiroth's true self, went out.


	3. Chapter 3

A Hell of My Making

By: Phoenix Dayze and S.J. Kohl

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII and make no profit off this fic.

Part Seven: Light

A glimmer of light surged into Zack's brittle, blackened soul. It was an acid green ribbon of consciousness that swept him up within it, twisted him around, and deposited him, reeling, back on what felt like solid ground. Zack blinked in the darkness that surrounded him and pushed against the warm body slumping against him. Where was he? And what the hell was going on?

_We're trapped,_ a cold voice whispered from deep within him, healing the ravages of his body even as it gripped at the edges of his now conscious mind.

Zack's eyes narrowed. He knew that voice. "Sephiroth?" His own voice was as harsh and grating as a rusty, discarded blade.

_Yes, Lieutenant. And how nice of you to rejoin the living. You are, however, a few moments late. As always._

"What's going on, Seph?" He looked around, focusing on the blank-eyed body of his former General. So it was Sephiroth's body he'd been holding when he woke up. "Hey...if you're sitting there unconscious, where's your voice coming from?"

_You swallowed my soul, Zackary. My body...I fear that, when it wakes, it will be as much a puppet for the Jenova cells as I was in life._

"Great," Zack muttered. "So...where am I, exactly?"

A flicker of annoyance. _You remember nothing?_

Zack thought for a moment. "Last thing I remember, Aerith and I were guiding another soul into the Lifestream."

_Cloud's soul. He's done something, Zack. Poisoned the Lifestream with his self-hatred, I think. Look._

Zack turned his head and stared through the heavy bars that now held him captive. His eyes widened with shock. Through the murky flow of this...stagnant...Lifestream, he could see the slender, pain-ravaged form of Aerith. She was standing over a huddled and shivering, bruised and bleeding Cloud, and her sharpened nails were digging into his neck. "What the _fuck,_ Seph!?" He threw himself against the bars, struggling to break free, to break through, to do _something_ before Aerith destroyed what was left of Cloud's faltering spirit. There wasn't much left to save as it was.

But it was no use. The bars held.

_You slipped through the bars before, Zackary._

"But how? I don't remember anything that happened more than a few moments ago!"

Sephiroth's voice dripped with acid. _Think, Lieutenant. You are in this place, but not a part of it like everyone else. You can do what I cannot._

Zack took a deep breath. Seph was right. He _wasn't_ part of the Lifestream. He'd always been able to manipulate it before. Why should now be any different?

Closing his eyes, Zack clamped his fists around two of the bars in a firm grip. He _pulled._ And they slid apart, screeching loudly as they bent outwards. Grinning in self-satisfaction, Zack slipped through the space between the bars.

And the maelstrom winds of Cloud's guilt and anguish slammed against him, knocking him off balance and sweeping him away.

tbc…


End file.
